Jam
by abhorrent
Summary: In which L realizes he needs a nap, and Light wishes to be the X-Man.


_Good lordy, lawdy, I must be drunk off that water bottle._

_Sadly, I'm not Eminem's psycho-bitch girlfriend, and I'm not drunk, either. I'm terribly bored, and ashamed of my lack of writing. You's all must be writhing in agony._

_It's not one of my stories that I should be updating, but it's close enough. Why? Because wild, sleep-deprived, and paranoid assumptions about jam make the world go 'round._

**I do not own **Death Note** or any of it's affiliates, tyvm.**

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**H**ours, upon hours, upon days, upon highly-exaggerated eons of dark rings outlined the eyes that occupied Light Yagami's otherwise pristine face. He turned to his "companion" and more-or-less attempted to murder him via telepathic radiation.

Yet it would seem that he did not inherit a mutated gene that would make him something akin to an X-Man. No, he was just Light Yagami, a tired and all-too-frustrated teenager who wanted to kill the man he was so inconveniently forced to spend what seemed to be the rest of his sane life with.

Wishing--and praying to whatever forces were floating around on by him--that the god-awful shackle chained to his left wrist would suddenly disintegrate into a pile of metallic, burning ashes, he sat back with a groan. Really, how was he supposed to work under these conditions?

"Is there a problem, Yagami-kun?" Light growled at the smooth, almost smug voice of the man who caused him all of his woes. Light enjoyed telling himself that L had been the cause of all of his recent misery. The lanky insomniac seemed to thrive off of power naps and raw sugar. If Light hadn't known any better, his over-worked and underpaid brain would have assumed that L was, in fact, a child hiding in a robot that was formulated to look and act like and annoying and all-too eccentric man.

And it was with that mindset that Light pointedly ignored his companion and stood from his seat. "I'm going to make a sandwich," he announced to the air.

As Light turned, he noticed the baffled look that he had merited from the man who existed of limbs that awkwardly joined together to make a being. But, in his oddly rebellious state-of-mind, he shrugged it off with inner triumph and trekked on; and it was at this time he thanked all those years of sports, because he inadvertently managed to drag an unwilling L along with him.

The teen turned the kitchen in haste, smiling madly as he did so. He was hungry, and his brain needed protein. For you see, if his mind was out of shape, then it would become a mass of gelatinous mush that swam around in cranial fluid—and he did not appreciate that concept in the least. So, he believed, protein was a necessity.

Light grabbed for the peanut butter with such a force that it surprised the detective to his right, who spared the boy a concerned glance. He spun off the cap and threw it at L, who jumped slightly at the assault and bristled. Apparently, Light was not in an agreeable mood. But from the way he attack the loaf of bread, it seemed likely he was "hungry like the wolf."

Light had smothered a slice of bread with a generous amount of the peanuty-goodness, before he began to tear through the cabinets in search of jam.

And, to his utmost delight, he found that he not only had jam—but a wide array of flavors of jam that ranged from grape to avocado-passion fruit. He contained his gleeful squeal and reached for the strawberry jam—

Only to have it slapped away violently by a wide-eyed L.

"I knew it!"

Light blinked, obviously not comprehending why his favorite jelly of choice had been assaulted so. Also, he did not understand why L was staring at him as though the teen had committed the most violent offense. "Wha'?"

"You are in it with him! I knew it all along, and I just needed that final piece of information!" L was waving his arms around like a conspirator, his left eye twitching madly and his shoulders convulsing like a cockroach does mid-stomping. Light kept staring.

"Excuse me, Ryuuzaki, but what in the _hell_ are you talking about?" Light did not know why, but he felt the sudden urge to be civil with the deranged man. It was apparent that L's mind had run off with the sugar plum fairies to Candy Land and left the corpse here for Light to deal with.

L took a precautionary step back and glared. "I had reason to suspect that you, Yagami Light, have been in cahoots with the only man who could ever stop me. This notion was based off of the rather suspect 'death' that caused his disappearance. I had assumed that Kira—who is you, by the way—had found out about my adversary in one way or another, and had come in contact with the man prior to his demise. This is based off of the fact that I had explicitly told every news and radio station in the world to never speak the man's name, nor ever show a picture of him. Now, then, how would he have died when no one could have seen his face?" L began to pace around, shoving fingers in every known direction and incessantly flailing. "Tell me, _Kira_, how could that happen?"

Light paused, utterly and wholly flabbergasted, and he tried hard to assess the situation. "L, I grabbed for jam and you slapped it out of my hand."

L jabbed a finger square onto Light's sternum. "You grabbed _strawberry jam_, you mean!"

"Why, yes, I did." Light blinked, not comprehending his charge. "It's a flavor of jelly, and it tastes like strawberries. A rather popular flavor among the _homo sapiens_ of the world."

L blinked, pausing, before he blanched three shades lighter than ivory. "Oh, dear, I must say that I had a lapse in sanity. I apologize Light-kun, I suppose I need to sleep more than I have been as of late."

Light's arm spasmed, and it ended in shoving the pale, lanky man. "I want to kick your scrawny, non-existent ass for saying that."

"And you logic in feeling that is why?" L looked generally curious, biting his index figner and tilting his head slightly in a perfect imitation of a confused ape. Light wanted to cry.

"I hate you, so, so much. Why can't you just _die_?"

"Suspect, Yagami, suspect." L gently chastised the boy, shaking his saliva-coated index finger at the youth, who groaned and wished it were he who was smashed and broken and sticky on the floor.

"Kill me, now, you god-damn hypocrite."

And it was times like these Light Yagami wished he were an X-Man.

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_There's your nightly dose of stupid, folks. Stay classy, and remember: Don't feed the rabid badgers!_

_Oh, and review, and feel free to tell me that Light, as a matter of fact, is Magneto. I'll proceed to tell you he's Rogue (I think?) because he likes to suck the life out of people. Har-de-har-har.  
_


End file.
